rain

I opened my eyes

And looked up at the rain,

And it dripped in my head

And flowed into my brain,

And all that I hear as I lie in my bed

Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very slowly,

I walk very slow,

I can't do a handstand--

I might overflow,

So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said---

I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Shel Silverstien

I feel a bit the way this poem is stating..

slow---with rain in my head.

We have a had a very wet season...and a very wet week.

Our garden (newly planted) is enjoying it I am sure.

I, on the other hand, am hungry for sunshine.

Starved, might be better said!

One highlight has been reading "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

My sister Annie gave us this book (with the cd-which I love) and a few of Mr. Silverstein's others quite a few years ago.

It had been WAY too long since we have read them.

Thank you Annie!

We will be reading them much more often!